


Forcibly Taken - Book II

by CatNip_618



Series: Toujours Pur [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Ammunition, Attempted Kidnapping, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Borgin and Burke’s, Children Owning Firearms, Dark Harry Potter, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Diagon Alley, Gen, Guns, Harry is a Little Shit, Hogwarts Second Year, Homelessness, Homicide, Homicide Investigations, House Fires, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Killing, Knockturn Alley, Leaky Cauldron, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Murder, Murder Investigations, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Number Four Privet Drive, Physical Abuse, Police, Protective Slytherins, Pureblood Bigotry (Harry Potter), Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Ron Weasley Bashing, Slight Draco Malfoy Bashing, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Smart Harry Potter, Snarky Harry Potter, The Cupboard Under The Stairs (Harry Potter), Thestrals, Vampires, Verbal Abuse, Werewolves, Wizarding Politics, but it’s complicated, he still has feelings, he’s a bit messed up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24528709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatNip_618/pseuds/CatNip_618
Summary: Harry Potter’s first year was quite an experience. He’s still struggling with his bloodlust and is facing the consequences of his actions against an evil, plotting Professor, but that doesn’t stop him.Author’s Note: This story might be adopted and continued by another user. It’s still pending, so don’t hope too much!**DISCONTINUED (7/26/20)**Trigger Warning!!READ THE TAGS, PLEASE! THIS STORY ISN’T FOR THE FAINT-HEARTED.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Toujours Pur [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752202
Comments: 157
Kudos: 205





	1. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry commits his first murder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE (6/22/20): Now I know some of you have asked for more details in Blood of the Enemy - Book I, but I’m not the greatest at adding social interactions into stories, or interacting at all! So that’s why I have more summarized parts; I usually save the gore and blood for the details because I wanna make you squirm. Plus, it’s easier.

**1**

**1992**  
  


Harry had just arrived at the park he’d lured dogs from so long ago. It’d been a couple of weeks since he’d returned to Privet a Drive, but not long enough to be two months yet. He’d been thinking a lot about what he’d done to the Professor down in the chamber and it was difficult to ignore the elation he felt whenever he thought of it. It made him shaky and giddy. 

He knew cannibalism was wrong, but he couldn’t personally find anything against it. It seemed natural to him. And in the darkest pits of his hellish mind, he couldn’t wait for more. More of the fresh raw meat and harboring the fact that it was his kin, that it was human... and there were some things in that pit he feared to admit. He feared that if he admitted it, he’d become it. (Unbeknownst to him, he’d already felt what he didn’t want to admit... though he never acted on it. Not yet, at least.) 

He wondered why he never got sick. There were many diseases that he could contract, but somehow he always got scott-free health wise. He guessed it was his wizard immune system, built to combat most illnesses. He wouldn’t be happy if he got fatally sick and ended up in the hospital, only to have the doctors discover he’d been cannibalizing people. Maybe it was better if it were cooked? But how would he able to cook something without his relatives knowing? Plus, he liked raw meat better.

He walked to the forest and watched as both humans and animals played about. His eyes latched onto a little dog nearby, but his gut was yearning for a person. He licked his lips hungrily. Suddenly, Harry spotted a little girl waddling off to the forest and venturing inside. Harry’s heart was beating very fast. 

He approached the girl and took her chubby hand. 

”Hi!” The girl chirped. 

”Hello...” Harry was near to hyperventilating. 

He stared at the girl for a while, contemplating. Closing his eyes, he imagined driving his pocketknife into some upper part of her body and watching the blood flow. He was frozen. And chicken. 

Harry’s knees suddenly buckled and he fell to all fours, gasping. The little girl stepped towards him in concern or confusion, he didn’t know, and patted him on the back. 

Seeing red, and not thinking rationally, he let out a shout and lunged towards the girl with his pocketknife, feeling it find it’s mark with a dull _thunk._ The girl didn’t make a sound. He yanked out his pocketknife and staggered backwards, watching the life leave her eyes. She fell to the ground soundlessly and gracefully, blood pooling sluggishly out of the puncture wound. 

There’s blood on his pocketknife, so he wipes it off on the ground. He’s trying hard not to cry. He’d just killed! On purpose! A little girl even! He was a child murderer. Looks like Aunt Petunia’s remark about the _murderer_ is true. Stuffing his clean pocketknife into the pocket of his oversized jeans, he bolts. 

He runs and runs and runs. He comes across Number Four’s white picket fence and darts into the property. Without warning, and no explanation, he slammed open the front door, startling the Dursleys, sprinted upstairs and dived into his bed, bursting into tears. He sobs his heart out, horrible wrenching hacks that heave through his thin frame.

* * *

Eventually, he falls asleep and dreams of little girls acting revenge against their murders. 


	2. Welcoming Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets Dobby.

**2**

**1992**

The next few days are a blur. He obeys the Dursleys and does the chores. He doesn’t go on a spree for a long time, and it was the longest he’d gone without doing so. He felt detached and catatonic, lost in his world of misery. There was a rumor of a child killer in the neighborhood of Little Whinging and there was an investigation. He did _not_ want to be caught. He’d lived only for so long. But he’d already destroyed his life. 

Harry is washing the dishes when he overheard Uncle Vernon instructing Dudley and Aunt Petunia. The man stepped his family through the way they were going to greet their house guests, it seemed.

Harry paused in his washing and that was when Uncle Vernon turned his attention to Harry. 

“And you, boy?” 

Harry quickly assessed the situation. If they were to have house guests over soon, Harry would most likely be holed up in his, pretending he didn’t exist. That sounded reasonable, so he stuck with it. 

”Staying in my room, pretending I don’t exist.” Harry answered. 

“That’s right.” Uncle Vernon growled. “If you make a peep, you’ll be in there for the rest of the summer! Got it?” 

Harry nodded. “Yes, Uncle Vernon.”

Apparently, the guests (the Masons) were to arrive _that night,_ so Harry was forcibly given the task of setting up an extravagant dinner for them. He made sure to keep the food as tasty as it looked. Harry had zoned out a little staring at the raw pork that sat sizzling on the pan. He’d blushed, ashamed of getting distracted and vowed to not do it again. 

He retreated to his room, suddenly feeling a strange pull of magic he didn’t recognize. Opening his door, he nearly yelled in shock at the _thing_ bouncing on his bed. Instead, he cursed under his breath, sneakily putting his hand into the pocket that held his blade. It had green skin, big green, buggy eyes and large bat-like ears that flapped. It wore a dirty pillowcase with holes for its arms. 

  
“Who are you?” Harry stage whispered.

“I am Dobby the house elf.” The thing answered. A bit too loudly. 

“Shh! My relatives are downstairs! Please be quiet!” He really wished the house elf would stp bouncing on his bed. It was making a racket. 

Suddenly, Dobby froze. Tears welled up in his eyes. Harry winced. _Oh no.  
_

“Harry Potter is so kind!” The elf wailed, “Dobby has never met such kindness!”

  
The chatter downstairs stopped and seemed to be waiting for more noise, so Harry did the only thing he could think of. He pinned the elf down and jabbed the blade of his pocketknife threateningly onto the elf’s jaw. 

Dobby didn’t look fazed at all. “Dobby is used to death threats, sir.” 

Harry let out a dark laugh. “Oh, you haven’t seen the things I’ve done, Dobby.” He edged the blade closer to the elf’s skin, adding, “Now are you going to be quiet or am I going to have to disembowel you? Don’t worry, I’ve done it before.” He cracked an eerie, scary grin that made Dobby’s eyes widen.

“Sir Harry Potter isn’t as kind as Dobby thought.” He said. 

“Darn right.” Harry hissed.

  
Harry slowly let go of the elf, making sure he wouldn’t make noise and heard the chatter below begin again. He was in the clear for now. Dobby hopped off the bed and wrung his hands.

”Dobby is here to give sir Harry Potter a warning.” The elf started. 

Harry frowned. “A warning?”

  
Dobby twisted his ears. Harry was compelled to stop him, but he wasn’t making much noise. “A warning,” Dobby echoed, “there is an evil plot! At Hogwarts!” 

“What? Why?” 

Dobby shook his head. “Dobby mustn’t tell! But he is here to tell sir Harry that he must not return to Hogwarts.” 

Harry was stunned. _Not_ return to Hogwarts? That was absurd! It was his home! And he had friends there! 

“I can’t not go to Hogwarts.” Harry protested, “It’s my home, and I have friends!”

Dobby suddenly looked very sly and very nervous. “Friends who wouldn’t even write to him?” It took a moment for what the elf had said to settle in. Once it did, he was angry. He exposed his pocketknife and flicked open the blade, showing Dobby that he wasn’t going to hesitate.

“You’ve been stealing my letters?” He asked in a deadly whisper. 

”Dobby figured if Harry’s friends didn’t write to him, h wouldn’t want to return to Hogwarts.” Dobby explained, backing away slowly, his eyes on Harry’s pocketknife. The boy suddenly lunged, not making a sound and raised his blade in clear intent to maim the elf. Said house elf shrieked and vanished with a loud _CRACK!_ and Harry’s pocketknife ended up buried in the floor up to the shaft. The chatter was gone and someone was thundering up the stairs. 

Harry swore loudly and the door burst open to reveal Uncle Vernon flowering down at him with a purple face. 

  
“Just what do you think you’re doing, boy?” 

But before Harry could respond, a letter with an official looking seal on it swooped in from behind Uncle Vernon, making said uncle cry out in anger, and Harry successfully snatched it out from the air. He opened it and found it was a letter from the Ministry of Magic, warning him of breaking the Statue Of Secrecy in front of Muggles. 

He groaned.   
  


* * *

Harry was locked in his room for the rest of the known summer. 


	3. Stainless Steel is So Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds something in Dudley’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has mentions of children owning firearms, so if you’re sensitive, don’t read this chapter and PLEASE DO NOT give me flack about it. It’s my story. And I know what I’m doing because I’ve had personal experiences with firearms.

**3**

**1992**

A long time ago, Harry Potter learned how to pick locks. The Dursleys hadn’t bolted up his door, but simply locked the doorknob. He thought it was stupid of them, but at the same time hilarious. 

So a couple of nights after his relatives had grounded him, he’d found a stray hair pin (he’d never know how it ended up there since Aunt Petunia hardly ever stepped foot in this room, much more than she did now), and slipped into the keyhole of the doorknob and with a quiet, satisfying _click,_ it opened. 

Harry didn’t bother going downstairs. He instead headed for Dudley’s room. He wasn’t sure why he was sort of breaking and entering, but he wanted something. This weird part of him was yearning for more. 

As quiet as a mouse, Harry snuck around Dudley’s room, freezing whenever his cousin moved or made a disturbance in his snores. Harry didn’t find anything useful in the clutter around the walls, so he moved to the twin dressers beside the sides of Dudley’s bed. He found some candy in the left one, so he moved to the right. 

And the moment he opened, the Thrill surged through him. He stifled a gasp.

Inside sat a gleaming, steel Glock 25. 

* * *

Harry was back in his room, twirling the gun in his hands. He’d found a large assortment of ammunition in Dudley’s closet and stolen all of it. Dudley hardly payed attention to his belongings and didn’t care if they went missing, so Harry wasn’t worried. He didn’t even know that Dudley had owned a gun, but never any complaints over gun rights.

He hadn’t put any bullets in it but would probably do so before he started school. 

He knew it was risky bringing a Muggle firearm to a magical school, so that why his decision remained to be determined. He pulled out his pocketknife and tapped the blade against the steel barrel of the gun. It made a quiet _ting_ that echoed throughout the room and made Harry feel calm. 

That night, he slept with a gun under his pillow. 


	4. Hiding in Plain Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is interrogated and his room is searched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t updated because I was in a dark spot and wasn’t feeling too motivated. I’m considering discontinuing this story, but I’d like you feedback first.

**4**

**1992**

The weapon, Harry decided, would stay in his trunk for the entire time he was at Hogwarts. He would not touch it and he wouldn’t use it on anyone since he didn’t know any silencing spells. But his trunk was in the cupboard under the stairs... so he opted to keep it under his pillow. 

He refrained from using his weapons on animals, and did not submit to the urge to hurt and make things bleed. He’d vowed to stay in control since the day he’d killed that little girl. The police (from what he heard through Aunt Petunia’s complaints) were still searching for the culprit and Harry was sure they’d come knocking and interrogate him. 

He was in his second bedroom (dinner had just finished and it was a bit of a downtime moment for him), running one of his older collections of eyeballs through his fingers when he heard the doorbell ring. A jolt of fear went through him. Not now! They couldn’t be here now! And why were they here? 

He leant his ear against the door and listened. He heard the door open and Aunt Petunia greet them. 

“Good evening, Mrs. Dursley. I am Officer Smith and this is Office Fernandez. We’re here to search the house. We have a warrant.” Harry’s eyes widened. He covered his mouth. They were gonna find out! 

Harry could tell by the tone of his Aunt’s voice that she didn’t like that. “Why?” She screeched. “We have nothing to hide!” 

_Except me.  
_

“Mrs. Dursley. There’s an ongoing investigation of the murder of Ellie Duncan. We’re going house-to-house to interview and search the houses around the park and the streets connected to it.” Officer Smith explained. There was a faint rustle of paper and Harry guessed they were showing him the warrant. 

Harry backed away from the door, but they weren’t approaching. He turned to his jars and collections, opened the window that had bars nailed over it, and dumped them out. He felt hurt at losing his trophies, but it was absolutely necessary. Or else he’d get arrested and jailed; and who knows what would happen to the Dursley’s. And what would his friends think of him? 

Oh no! His friends! Harry panicked. He pulled his too-small, duct-taped trainers on and stuffed his pocketknife in it. It hardly fit. He could hear the officers’ heavy footsteps clunking around downstairs. He was running out of time! Nearly gasping, he stuttered around the room, looking for someplace to hide his gun. He decided to shove it under between the mattress and the boards that held them up. 

Just in time to hear the officers’ footsteps turning to the stairs. 

Harry could hear them inspecting Dudley’s room and then turning to his. He could also hear Aunt Petunia complaining about the room he stayed in, saying it was just useless and that it held her criminally insane nephew, aka: him. 

The locks were undone. The door opened. 

Two intimidating officers much taller than Harry stood at the doorway. “Hello,” said one of the officers, “I am Officer Smith. We’re here to ask you some questions. Is that alright?”

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice. 

They edged into Harry’s room and Harry sat on the bed, right on the spot where the gun lay underneath. He didn’t want the officers to notice. Officer Smith sat down next to him, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“What’s your name?” The Officer asked. 

“Harry Potter.” 

“And how old are you?”

Harry swallowed. “I’m twelve. My birthday was in July.” 

“Well, Happy Birthday, Harry.” 

“Thanks.”

”Now, did you see anything strange on the 31st of June? Did you see a little girl in a blue floral dress and blonde hair?” 

Harry shook his head. “No. Why?”

”She was killed that day, Harry.” 

Harry could feel himself pale. “I was at the park that day...” he gulped. “But I didn’t see a girl. But I saw a man walking into the forest. He looked really creepy.” 

Officer Smith smiled. “Thank you, Harry, for sharing that information. So, we’ve got a warrant to search your Aunt’s house, so we’ll have to search here too.” He and Harry stood and Harry backed off to the door and waited. He watched in part horror and part anticipation as Officer Smith gently inspected his room by looking under his dresser, opening the drawers and finding naught but Harry’s cousin’s clothes, and oversized socks and underwear. He turned to his bed and Harry was holding his breath for dear life. He was hoping so badly. 

Officer Smith shook out the ratty blanket but didn’t find anything incriminating. He peeked under the bed and Harry swore his heart stopped beating, but the Officer didn’t looked fazed. Turning, he inspected Hedwig’s cage by opening the little doorway, but didn’t comment. 

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Harry.”

”It was nice to meet you too, sir.”

He tipped his hat and left. Aunt Petunia gave him a glare once the Officer was out the door and she shook her head. She pointed her finger at the floor, meaning _stay._ He did. 

Once the door was closed and the locks in place, Harry let out a breath of relief. That was _so fucking close._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you told me that getting a gun in the UK was difficult, and that Vernon should’ve owned it instead of his son, but I wanted it to make it that it just happened. I’m sure you guys can fill in the blanks (but if you can’t, you can ask me any questions).
> 
> And I chose June 31st because it could be considered the last week of June, since Wikipedia.org says it ends around there.


	5. Burn Baby Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry faces the consequences and snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abuse warning!

**5**

**1992**

Harry sat on his bed, but didn’t dare move. He could hear his relatives conversing with the officers and heard the door slam after quite a fake-cheerful farewell by Aunt Petunia. 

There was a moment of silence but it was soon broken by the heavy footsteps thundering up the stairs. Harry sucked in a breath and his eyes widened. He was in deep trouble. 

Uncle Vernon slammed the door open, his face purpling with fury. Harry felt a jolt of fear spasm down his spine. He inwardly scolded himself. He should not be afraid of his uncle. 

“Take off your shirt, boy.” Uncle Vernon growled. 

Maybe he should take that back... Swallowing, he gripped the hem of his ratty shirt but didn’t make any movement. Surely, his uncle wouldn’t do _that_ to him? Harry was his nephew! It was illegal in both ways! 

  
“Take it off!” His uncle repeated. 

Harry swiftly pulled off his shirt, revealing pale skin and slightly prominent ribs. He didn’t dare wrap his arms around himself. He didn’t want to show weakness. 

  
“Turn around.”

Harry did. He faced the wall. And he was beginning to shake. He heard the sound of a belt buckle and he covered his mouth to hide any sounds he’d betray himself with. 

There was a split second of whistling air and then a sudden, white-hot clash of pain that smeared across his back. He put his free hand onto the wall in front of him to try and not collapse. His breath was ragged now and he couldn’t hear much through the sudden ringing in his ears. 

_  
CRACK!_

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel tears forming. 

_CRACK!_

Harry let out a quiet gasp. His vision was beginning to darken. He willed himself to keep awake and stay awake through the entire ordeal. He didn’t know what would happen if he passed out. His uncle had never done such things like this before.

There was a sudden shift behind him and Harry paused. He had no idea what was happening now. 

And then—

_  
CRACK!_

This time Harry let out a scream. Uncle Vernon had used the belt buckle! He could feel his torn skin and feel the blood running down his back and seeping into the fabric of his pants. He wobbled for a moment and fell to his knees, gasping.

His uncle cuffed himself upside the head. “That’s what you get, boy. No meals for a week.” 

Thr room was silent, but was gently penetrated by the soft sobs of one Harry Potter.   
  


* * *

He didn’t really know what he was doing. His back hurt like hell, but he was wide awake. Wincing, he snuck down the stairs and searched almost desperately for something. He needed something, but he didn’t know what. 

He felt so lost and he thought he was losing his mind. 

He opened a drawer beside the kitchen sink and paused. A tired yet creepy smile broke across his pale face. Lifting the box of matches from its containment, he set on the tile counter and made his way upstairs again. He dug his Glock out from under the mattress and stuffed it into one of Dudley’s old school bags. He clambered downstairs again and opened the pantry. He grabbed some cans of soup and other non-perishables he found. He went and unlocked the cupboard under the stairs and pulled out his trunk. He had his wand in his jeans pocket. 

Stuffing that into his bag, he turned to the door of the living room and sighed almost regretfully. He took the matches, opened the box and lit one up. He brought it to the curtain near the dining room and it immediately caught aflame. 

It flowed in its fiery glory and Harry was transfixed. It had spurt of red and orange so many warm colors. It was eating the curtain like it was starving and the smell of smoke was so calming. 

Harry left Number Four as it was devoured by hungry flames. He left with the school bag on his shoulders and the clothes on his person. Nobody noticed. 

* * *

In a rather large office, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was awoken by shrill sounds coming from his desk. He hurried over and saw that the wards to Number Four had fallen. 


	6. Reckless but Careful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is almost kidnapped but defends himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but eeehh...

**6**

**1992**

Harry had been walking for who knows how long, all in a straight line down the sidewalk, when a series of police cars with their sirens screaming drive by at top speed. He turned to see the smoke rising from the house afar and the faint glow of flames. 

He continued walking and after a while, making his way down a completely alien street, he noticed he was being followed. 

He turned around, but didn’t see anyone behind him. But then he noticed the slightly slouched figure on the other sidewalk across the street. The sky had darkened and it was probably around midnight, so Harry couldn’t really tell who was following him. He had a hunch it was a man. 

He resumed walking, but kept his guard up, his hands playing with the pocketknife inside his jeans pocket. After a few minutes, he turned to see that the figure had disappeared. A flash of panic welled up inside him and he looked a round frantically. He moved the back on his school bag to his front and pulled out the gun. He brandished it at the sky and kept his eyes alert. 

Suddenly, there was a quiet scuffle behind him, but before he could make a sound, someone had clamped their hand over his mouth. He was roughly dragged away and into a dark alley and thrown to the ground. Before he could flee, someone had climbed atop him and pinned him. (He was briefly aware that his hand had been yanked off the handle of his trunk and left on the sidewalk.) 

  
“Be quiet, little one.” A man’s voice said. “Or you’ll make it worse.”

Harry quickly gathered that this man was one of those creeps who preyed on children and bit viciously onto the man’s hand. The predator cried out in pain and Harry was able to knee him in the balls. Harry kicked the large knife out of the man’s other hand, picked up his fallen gun and aimed it at him. The predator, spotting the barrel between his eyes, froze. But he still smiled, showing off sickly yellow teeth. 

“You don’t have the balls, kid.”

Harry grinned. “I murdered a little girl earlier this summer. I won’t even hesitate.” He cocked the gun. 

The man’s smile faltered. Still, he challenged him. “Try me.”   
  
Harry took one last glance at the man before him and closed his eyes. He squeezed the trigger, but only slightly. He opened his eyes to find the man still staring at him, but no longer smiling. In a matter of moments, he’d closed his eyes again and pulled the trigger. The sound of gun going off was piercing and it made his ears ring. It echoed in his head over and over and he vaguely heard the man fall to the ground, dead. 

He opened his eyes and watched the blood pool around the man’s head. He tucked the gun back into his school bag, grabbed his trunk and walked further down the alley. He didn’t want to reveal himself at the scene of a crime. That he committed. Once again, he felt detached. Lost. The blast of the gun was still ringing in his ears and his chest felt empty. He’d just killed someone. Again. But the girl was more of an impulse. The man was pretty much premeditated. 

He had too much blood on his hands.   
  
  


* * *

Harry had found himself at the tube (or in America, the subway). Trains and people were milling about, not paying attention to the little boy with an old school bag, worn trunk and ratty clothes. If someone were to look at his eyes closed enough, they’d see a coldness no child should have. They would know that the child held dark secrets if they looked into his cold Killing Curse green eyes. 

Harry had inkling of where he knew the Leaky Cauldron was. He just needed to get to London. He turned to the map displayed on the wall and found that with a train ride, he’d been there in half an hour. He boarded the next train headed for London and took his seat. As he rode, he noticed a teenager looking at him weirdly. 

He shot the teen a glare, not noticing his eyes flash green for a moment, and the teen hastily looked away. 

Soon enough, after dismissing several strange looks, Harry was in London. 


	7. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry arrives at the Leaky Cauldron and explores Borgin and Burke’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I found a new fanfiction site called Harry Potter FanFiction Archive and I was thinking of posting my story there, but I think that site is a bit too adult for me (even though I’m turning eighteen this summer).

**7**

**  
1992**

Harry wasn’t sure how he found the Leaky Cauldron but after a few hours of aimless wandering, he’d found it. Maybe it was because he was a wizard or maybe it was because he was drawn to the magic. But he was glad he’d found it because he’d have no clue of where to go if he didn’t. 

He entered the pub and was greeted by Tom, the bartender. He walked up to him and asked, “Do you have any rooms I could use for a little while?”

“Why certainly! It’ll be seven Galleons a night.” 

Harry nodded as they descended the stairs to the rooms, eventually turning to Room Seven. Harry opened the door and was greeted by a simple bed, dresser and a window that overlooked Diagon Alley. 

He set his trunk by the dresser, along with his school bag. The dresser had one drawer, so he stored his gun and pocketknife in that. He flopped onto the bed and sighed. The ceiling had many cracks in it, but didn’t seem any closer to collapsing. He listened to his own breathing and soon, his eyes were drooping. 

Soon, he’d fallen asleep. 

* * *

The next morning, Harry paid for his breakfast and explored Diagon Alley. He knew he needed supplies for his second year, so he went to the appropriate shops and bought his new belongings. Several sets of Slytherin robes, a pack of quills and everlasting ink, and soon he realized he’d needed his new textbooks. Especially some for Defense Against the Dark Arts. At that thought, he wondered who would be the new Professor.

He made his way to Flourish and Blotts bookstore and was surprised to find a crowd in it. At the start of the crowd was a sign that mentioned someone named Gilderoy Lockhart, and that he’d be selling his books along with the exclusive _Magical Me!_

Harry was shoving his way through the crowd, curious on who this Gilderoy Lockhart was. Just when he made his way up the front line, he heard a laugh and cringed. It sounded very fake and obnoxious. He looked up to see a tall man in periwinkle blue robes, blonde hair and very white teeth.

Harry was regretting entering the shop. _This_ was Gilderoy Lockhart? Harry watched as the man preened under the attention and displayed his _Magical Me!_ book. And suddenly, to Harry’s horror, he locked eyes with him. 

_Oh no.  
_

Harry immediately turned and tried to push his way out of the store, but Gilderoy Lockhart had already reached with surprising swiftness. The bumbling man clapped Harry on the shoulder and steered him to where his books lay on the table. Soon there were cameras flashing in his face and it blinded him. 

“What a special, special day it is today!” Lockhart crowed, “It’s Harry Potter! Smile, Harry! It’s a good day for the papers!” He gripped Harry’s shoulder and pulled him in close. Harry squirmed. He _did not_ like this at all. Lockhart then went to congratulate Harry on his fame and gave him his books to him for free. 

(Harry had to reluctantly accept that this blasted peacock was going to be the Defense Professor this year. And he guessed that the books he’d been given were the Defense textbooks. They didn’t look like it though.)

Harry accepted the books, but left with a parting gift: stomping viciously on the man’s foot, before leaving. As he left, he came upon the Weasley’s, holding hand-me-down clothes and worn, used books. As he walked down the Alley, he though he heard a shout and saw Hagrid rushing over to the source. 

He dumped his books in his room, promising to burn them later, and left to explore some more. 

* * *

Somehow, Harry found himself in Knockturn Alley. He was cautious, but eager. He wanted to keep himself hidden, but he wasn’t sure how. He couldn't really don his school robes and have the hood over his face. He’d look like an idiot. 

So all he could really do, since when didn’t know any glamour charms, was flatten his bangs and try his best to hide his scar. But what if he was too recognizable? That’d be a disaster. But maybe he could make the person swear that they hadn’t seen him. It was difficult...

Harry entered Borgin and Burke’s and was immediately entranced by the oddities on the shelves. Vials of strange liquids, shrunken heads, boney hands...

  
“What’re you doin’ here, lad?”

Harry jumped and whirled around. A man stood at the desk, beady eyes on him. 

“Oh, I was just... curious.” 

“It’s not often I see a kid in Knockturn Alley...”

“I... got lost. But this... um. Looks interesting.”

The man looked unsure, but nodded once, sweeping his arm to show that Harry can explore. Harry turned to the shelves and walked around, closely examining the objects. He came upon a small glass bottle filled with what looked suspiciously like blood. He gently took it into his hands and sniffed it. 

“That’s vampire blood.” The man spoke. 

Harry quickly set the bottle back on the shelf. “Sorry.”

“Bah. No worries.”

Harry, throughly embarrassed, quickly left the shop and made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron and lay in his bed, thinking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So on Friday, I’ll be leaving to go camping with my family and won’t return until a Sunday. On the 29th, very early in the morning, I’ll be going to Sea-Tac to board a plane to Alaska for the summer. I won’t return until late August. 
> 
> So this will be on hiatus for at least two months or more. Plus, when I start school, I  
> won’t have as much time to update my chapters. It’ll be the same for ‘Bone of the Father | You Will Renew Your Son’. 
> 
> So please, PLEASE don’t ask me to update. I’ll have a full inbox and that’ll be very irritating, not that I don’t enjoy your feedback, which I do! I do enjoy your feedback.
> 
> This is probably far too early to say, but I’ve got plans for Book III! I can’t wait!


	8. Dreams & Deals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has a strange dream and makes a deal with Borgin in Knockturn Alley.

**8**

**1992**

Harry spent the next few days exploring Diagon Alley. He stopped by Flourish & Blotts, wanting to see if there were any interesting books around (meaning Dark books). He found a book on curses and their counters and gladly purchased it. He retreated to his room at the Leaky Cauldron and read the book for many hours. 

He found a lot more useful spells than the ones he’d found in his textbook. Even one that could reveal an Animagus’ human form! He definitely needed to try it on that blasted rat of Weasley’s. 

He was slightly disappointed when he didn’t come across any harmful curses. It was mostly stuff like the Bat-Bogey Hex. Well, he guessed that one might cause pain because it’s coming out of your nose. Good. He liked the ones that caused even minor pain. 

Harry noticed that it was well past his bedtime, if he even had one, and decided to tuck in for the night. He put the book into his trunk, slipped off his glasses, and placed them onto the nightstand beside his bed. 

And he dreamed.   
  


* * *

_It was mucky where he was. It was dark and the floor was wet. There were strange statues on the sides of walkway and white marble up front on the wall. There was a hole in the marble and it was very dark. Harry guessed it was an opening. He heard the sound of something slithering on the floor, something gigantic sliding on the lapping water that laced the stone walkway.  
_

_Then there were whispers. Uncomprehendingly loud and eerie, snake-like hisses echoed throughout the room and vibrated in Harry’s bones.  
_

_  
“Kill... Kill...”_

_He walked up the marble statue, but just like before, he couldn’t see. The marble looked vaguely like a face with a gaping, open mouth. And then there was a boy. Taller than him, but almost identical to him. For one moment he thought crazily:_ What if this was my lost twin? _But then he immediately scrapped it; his hair was far too neat and his robes were outdated. The boy in front of him was smiling and he had deep, red eyes. The same red he’d seen his dream the previous year.  
_

_Then the boy spoke. Just like a hissing snake, but this time, Harry could understand what he was saying.  
_

_  
“Speak to me, Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.”  
_

_He realized that his eyes were closed - when had he closed them? - and he opened them to look into the gleaming yellow eyes of a monstrous -_

* * *

Harry’s eyes snapped open. 

The he rolled onto his side and groaned. _Not again._ That was the second dream he’d gotten. The first one was of the Professor he’d attacked last year and now it was something about... a boy? With snakes that could talk? And a great expanse of a dank, musty room. Even the boy looked almost like him! He couldn’t really see but he could make out the differences. 

Sitting up, he looked out the dingy window and saw that the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. 

Harry figured he’d get dressed and go out window shopping again or - a spike of nervousness chilled him - sneak into Knockturn Alley. Maybe he’d go deeper and look for more goodies about curses and such. Or he’d look for weapons like his gun and pocketknife. That’d be a good boon. 

He quickly dressed and made his way down the stairs to the open area of the pub and found Tom wiping the tables with a dirty rag. There was a person sitting at a table not too far away, reading an old, battered book. 

The bartender greeted him and Harry asked if he could lead him to the entrance of Diagon Alley since he didn’t remember the wand pattern to open it. Harry noticed gleefully that there weren’t very many people out, since it was the crack of dawn. He made his way down a dark alleyway and entered Knockturn Alley. He made his way to the Borgin & Burke’s shop and entered. The employee, Borgin, gave him an odd look but greeeted him nonetheless.

(Harry spied a tall, old cabinet that stood intimidatingly over him. 

”What’s that?” He asked, pointing to it. 

”That is a Vanishing Cabinet. It has a twin somewhere else. You can walk through the cabinets to reach your location.”)

Harry had pretended to be interested in the vial of vampire blood earlier that week and now subtly steered himself towards it. He approached it and licked his lips hungrily. He knew he shouldn’t drink it and he probably wouldn’t, but it was a little tempting. But he didn’t want to deal with the consequences 0f drinking vampire blood. Maybe... maybe he could force it upon someone else... 

  
He turned to the shopkeeper. “How much for this?” 

Borgin started at him for a moment. “A hundred Galleons.” 

Harry inwardly winced. That was hefty price. But would it be worth it? He tuned to the vial and gingerly picked it up. He watched, transfixed, as the blood sloshed around. He hadn’t noticed that his eyes had begun to glow. Then he blinked, and it was gone. 

He dug into his pocket, pulling out a handful of Galleons. “Make it forty.” 

“Seventy.” Borgin countered. 

“Fifty.” Harry said. “Half and half.” 

Borgin nodded. “Deal.”

* * *

Harry left the shop with a vial of vampire blood.   
  


Little did he know, a certain Potions Master was watching him. He watching the boy tuck a suspicious-looking vial into his school bag, a secret smile on his lips. 


	9. First Class Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds a way to King’s Cross from Diagon Alley, meets up with his friends and makes new discoveries.

**9**

**1992**

Soon, it was time for school. Harry had gotten everything for the next term and was ready. He’d put Notice-Me-Not spells on the vial of vampire blood, along with spells that caused harm to anyone who tried to steal it, and hidden it in the depths of his trunk. He realized that he needed to get to King’s Cross in order to reach Hogwarts successfully. He couldn’t just walk in through the gates. So he spent his last day at Diagon Alley looking for any way to transport himself to King’s Cross. 

Eventually, in the way back of the Alley, Harry found an international Portkey shop. _Tiddlebit’s International Portkeys_ was the name. He entered and saw someone reading causally at the front desk. 

He approached. “Excuse me?”

The man sitting at the desk looked down at him. “Platform 9 & 3/4?” 

Harry nodded. “It’s that time of the year.” 

The man reached down under the desk, fumbling for a moment before pulling out a locket. It was smaller than his palm, but chain was quite long. “Twenty Galleons.” 

Harry paid the sum (he was getting low on Galleons, especially after that deal in Knockturn Alley) and stared at the offered time. “What’s it do?” 

The man snorted. “A Portkey is a mode of transportation to get from one place to another. This one is built for you to get to the train. The word is _bonnet._ ” Harry took the Portkey, stepped back from the desk to give himself space, and said the word. Immediately a strange hook behind his navel activated and he was gone in a blur of wind and noise. He suddenly found himself at the very Platform, right in the middle of shifting crowds. 

An elbow smacked him in the ear. _Merlin’s balls, couldn’t the Portkey find a safer spot?  
_

Harry grumbled and shoved his way through the crowd and onto the train. He quickly found an empty compartment, since he was here early, and sat down. He set his trunk on the seat beside him, along with his owl’s empty cage. He’d let her out the night he left the Dursleys and she hadn’t come back. Well, he’d grown a bit attached to her, since she was his first actual birthday gift in a long time, but hoped she’d found someplace safe.

He closed the compartment door shut and quickly dressed into his Hogwarts Slytherin robes and laid down on the other compartment seat to rest. 

Soon, he was nodding off into dreamland.   
  


* * *

Hrry was startled awake by the sound of the compartment door being slammed open and a shout of his name. He fell off the seat with a yelp and landed ungracefully onto the floor. A laugh reached his ears. 

He looked up to meet his foe. “Pansy!” 

“Hello, Harry. What’re you doing on the floor?” Pansy Parkinson greeted, already in her school robes. Her dark hair was longer than last year’s style and was braided. 

Harry quickly stood, blushing. “Nothing. You just startled me.”

Pansy gave him a skeptical look. “Uh huh. Hey! You’re in your robes already!” Then she frowned, nearing him. “Your robes are all wrinkled. Who do you live with? Muggles?” She talked as she attempted to smooth down his robes. 

“Not anymore.” Harry grumbled. 

Pansy looked at him sharply but before she could respond, Draco sauntered in. “Did you hear, Harry? A Muggle family was killed!”

Pansy scoffed, not noticing Harry’s face whitening. “Old news, Draco. That was weeks ago.” 

Harry managed to change his face into a neutral expression. “Really? When?”

Pansy waved him off. “Oh, beginning of August. House burned down. Somewhere in a place called Little... Whining?” 

“Whinging, Parkinson. Whinging.” Draco corrected. Harry decided to indulge himself a little, feeling a hell of a lot worse than earlier. “Who did it?” 

Pansy turned around and gave him an incredulous look. “Are you serious? Death Eaters, obviously!”

Now it was Harry’s turn to look incredulous. “Death Eaters? Who are they?” It sounded like they were eaters of death, if the name was literally taken. Maybe they defied death or something. Or ate it. Harry filed the information away for later use. 

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” Draco gasped. “Harry, are you stupid? Death Eaters are You-Know-Who’s followers. They have the Dark Mark on their left forearms. You’re a Slytherin, you should know that!” 

Harry glared. “Well, I’m sorry but I wasn’t raised in the Wizarding World!” 

Draco and Pansy blinked in shock. “You weren’t?” Pansy asked. Harry chuckled. “Now it’s your turn to be stupid.” He snarked. 

Pansy stomped her foot, saying loudly, “Forget stupidity! Harry, did you live with Muggles?”

Harry nodded. He didn’t want to talk about his life with the Dursleys, mostly because of his past. Maybe he’d get some pity. He hated pity. But he definitely didn’t want his friends to know that the Muggles that died were his relatives. That would raise too many questions. 

“What? That’s not true! Orphans would be adopted into magical families, not Muggles!”

“Well, they were my relatives...” Harry said quietly. 

“What?” Draco exclaimed. “Even if they were related to you, they wouldn’t be allowed to take care of you! It’s a law!”

“A _law?_ Well, whoever put me there is in deep trouble.” Harry replied. Pansy scoffed. “Whoever put you there - which I think I know who it is - should have kept an eye you, right? Right?” She looked almost hopefully at Harry. He shook his head. “Nope. Nobody was there.” She swore under her breath. 

“Who do you think it is, Pansy?” Draco asked.

She took a deep breath. “Dumbledore.”

Harry blinked. “Wow. I am not surprised.”

Draco growled. “I should have known.” 

Pansy jabbed a finger into Harry’s chest. “There’s more, isn’t there?” Harry gulped. Draco frowned. “I don’t see how there’d be more.” 

”I can’t place my finger on it, but there’s gotta be more...”

  
Harry shook his head. “Well, there isn’t any. The deal is sealed.” Before Pansy could say anything further, she was once again interrupted by someone from outside the door. She opened it to reveal the trolley witch. “Sweets from the cart, dearies?”

To Harry’s relief, they dropped the whole topic and bought sweets off the cart and settled into the compartment. The air was tense at first, but then it eased as they began to chat about mundane things such as Quidditch and the upcoming school year.

And quicker than a Nimbus, they’d arrived. 

* * *

  
The trio left the Hogwarts Express and made their way around Hogsmeade Station. They eventually came upon a series of carriages that would lead them to the castle. But the sight of what drove those carriages froze Harry. 

Pansy stopped when he did. “You alright?”

Harry pointed at the bony, dark skeleton horses that were hooked up to the carriages. They had sleek skin and bat-like wings. And were quite tall and thin. Harry was spooked. “What are those?” Harry asked.

Pansy frowned. “I don’t see anything.” 

Harry pointed more frantically, hoping he wasn’t going mad. “Those!” He cried. “The skeleton horses!” Suddenly, a student came up behind them. It was young Theodore Nott. He looked wide-eyed and a bit awed. “Those are Thestrals. You can see them when you’ve seen death.” He explained quietly.

Harry gulped. To meant the death he’d seen was Professor Quirrell’s. And did his relatives count? But he was already gone when the house was ashes. Pansy tugged on hai sleeve. “C’mon,” she urged, “we’re gonna be late.”

He quickly boarded a carriage with Pansy, Theo and Draco. The carriage moved and Harry watched in fascination as the Thestral’s wings fluttered. He was in for an interesting year... 


	10. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little heads up.

**10**

**2020**

Hi guys! I’m here to give you all a little heads up on why I haven’t posted anything in the last (near) month now. The thing is that this story isn’t good for my mental health. It’s ironic and probably a little maddening to realize that but it’s true. When I first started writing Book I, I began to sink into a rabbit hole and I was letting it simmer for many weeks. I eventually let it all out after I finished it and moved on to the second book. I had a good talk with my parents. It made me feel better, but every time I went back to the story, I’d feel the monsters whispering in my ears.   
  


I knew that if my parents found this story and of my mental state, they wouldn’t be happy. So I toyed around for a bit to avoid discovery and managed to escape victorious after a close call.   
  


Plus I’m no longer into Harry Potter. Sad, I know, but I often go through “phases” I call obsessions every few months to a year or two and then I move on (I have Asperger’s Syndrome - aka a higher functioning version of autism). And my HP obsession has faded and now I’m into Rise of the Guardians, mainly Jack Frost. (That’s also why I have chosen my options of being either a Death Eater or Jack Frost.) If you find it childish for an eighteen year old to be interested in a amazing movie she saw when she was ten years old, then you can leave.

Double plus, today is my eighteenth birthday (Sunday July 26, 2020) and I’m officially an adult. Sounds cheesy, but it’s a big deal to me. I also plan to get a tattoo either of the Deathly Hallows sign between my shoulder blades but near the nape of my neck, or a semi-colon on either insides of my wrist to represent suicide prevention, since I’ve attempted suicide on multiple occasions and had a few run-ins with the law (*chuckles nervously*)... 

But I just wanted to say that this fic is discontinued, unfortunately. I don’t know about _Bone of the Father,_ but that one will have very slow updates, soooo... yeah. That’s all.   
  


If you’re wondering what might’ve happened in the future, I was planning to have two options occur:

1) (This was slated to occur at the end of second year, where killing the Basilisk triggers his bloodlust) Harry sneaks out to the Forbidden Forest to drink the vampire blood, which when he does, causes a painful incomplete transformation. A nearby vampire senses his Turning and, with regret, bites Harry to help him survive, but with disastrous consequences: i.e. Harry’s a vampire!

2) (This was the end of third year, when Pettigrew is revealed and Sirius is deemed innocent) Harry’s hungry for more raw meat and sneaks out to the Forbidden Forest on the night of a full moon and gets turned into a werewolf by a savage Remus Lupin.   
  


Also, I might add one shots to important events that would’ve happened if I’d continued this, but it’s a 50/50 chance because it takes a toll on my mental health.

Ciao amigos! 


End file.
